


Something Just Like This

by lunasenzanotte



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Consensual Kink, Gangbang (sort of), Group Sex, Held Down, M/M, Mystery Character(s), Porn With Plot, Sexual Fantasy, Some Plot, Spanish National Team
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-28
Updated: 2017-09-28
Packaged: 2019-01-06 11:37:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12210516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunasenzanotte/pseuds/lunasenzanotte
Summary: Sergio has a kinky fantasy. Iker decides to make it come true for him.





	Something Just Like This

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the footballprompts challenge with the kink "held down". I had some people in mind while writing this but decided for the right atmosphere to leave them mysterious. Also, dedicated to all who wanted me to write another Seriker fic.

They discuss it a lot, once that Sergio musters up the courage to share his fantasy with Iker. To his surprise, Iker is not disgusted, nor shocked, nor offended by Sergio fantasizing about other men touching his body, holding him down by force while he’s being fucked, like Iker’s not enough. That’s what Sergio fears the most. Because it’s not like that at all. In all his fantasies, the men don’t have names, nor faces. Just Iker. They are not important. Only Iker is. 

He’s tried ropes and other things, but it just didn’t do it for him. It wasn’t the same as some live force, the touch of a living person, the presence of someone. The fantasy kept nagging at him, making him feel like he was missing on something, like however wonderful his sex with Iker was, it could be even better, if only he could live out this fantasy of his. Just once. He could always live on the memory afterwards.

Iker sets the rules. He has everything carefully planned out, better and more thoroughly than Sergio ever would. He thinks of details Sergio would just dismiss as not important at all. He charges himself with finding their “partners”, as he calls them - because Iker even goes as far as calling the whole thing “business”, teasing Sergio by discussing it in public, making it sound like a regular, boring matter, only that it often leaves Sergio hard and with fingers twitching to wrap themselves around Iker’s throat. He decides that they will do it during the national team break, their only opportunity to do it and keep it inconspicuous. He decides that Sergio will be blindfolded all the time, and won’t know who will do what, or even who will be in the room with them. Just as the men are faceless in his fantasy, they will be faceless when it becomes reality.

So Sergio finds himself in his and Iker’s hotel room, naked, only with a piece of black fabric tied firmly over his eyes. Rationally he knows that everyone who’s supposed to see him naked has already seen him naked before, but he feels surprisingly self-conscious.

“If you don’t like whatever we do, you have to tell me,” Iker says. 

Sergio hums noncommittally, suddenly at loss of words. His mind is too full of expectations to function properly.

“Sergio,” Iker says in his authoritative voice. “You’ll tell me if you’re not comfortable with what we do, and we’ll stop immediately. Is that clear?”

“Yes,” Sergio breathes out.

“Good.”

There is a rather loud knock. Iker gets up and goes to the door, at least Sergio supposes that he does. He doesn’t hear any sound apart from the door opening and then closing again. No footsteps, thanks to the thick carpet. Then the bed dips, several times. Sergio doesn’t know how many are there, but the bed is big enough to accommodate them all. Nobody in the room speaks.

“Relax,” he finally hears Iker’s voice, but can’t really place it in the room, he can’t even tell if Iker is on the bed or just somewhere in the room. “Arms above your head.”

Sergio moves them there, tentatively. Almost immediately, fingers wrap around his wrists, firmly. Not hurting him, but squeezing enough for him to know that they won’t let him put his hands anywhere he’d like to have them. Someone else’s fingers press against his rib cage. Sergio almost startles as anonymous hands spread his legs, settling on his thighs and ankles. It’s almost like there isn’t a single part of his body that isn’t being touched. But of course there is. The part that belongs to Iker, only Iker.

He thought that he would be putting names and faces to the touches, but he finds it impossible. He can only guess - and even that is difficult. Iker arranged everything without him, didn’t even hint at who he’s asked to come. Sergio would like to know if Fernando was one of them, and he is almost sure that he is there, and he guesses that Pepe wouldn’t miss an event like this, but this is also something right up Cesc’s alley, and perhaps one of the younger ones would find it exciting, but he can’t really tell if the person holding his wrists above his head is Isco, or Morata, or someone else who didn’t even cross his mind. The touches and scents mingle and overwhelm him, they are many and one at the same time. It’s almost like it’s one force holding him down instead of several people.

Finally Iker gets on the bed - Sergio feels him settle between his legs and run his hands over his abs. On instinct, he reaches for him, but the hands on his wrists and shoulders immediately push him back into the mattress. His cock twitches, and Iker’s barely touched him yet. He can almost see and feel the smiles and looks Iker exchanges with the others, they are almost tangible.

Iker slides his hands over Sergio’s body, avoiding the hands holding him down, then stops to play with Sergio’s nipples for a while. By the time he reaches Sergio’s lips, Sergio is already breathing hard.

“Liking it so far?” Iker asks, nibbling at Sergio’s lower lip.

Sergio only manages to nod.

“Good,” Iker states and without any warning, he takes Sergio in his mouth. 

The men around him have to really hold him down this time, because he almost arches off the bed. Iker moves slow, takes his time, knowing how Sergio hates it, how much it frustrates him, because he’s used to taking everything fast and at once. Sergio tries to keep his whimpers at bay, aware of the eyes watching him, but as Iker works his lips and tongue, he gradually stops caring. The men holding his hands almost have a hard time restraining him now.

Sergio lets out a frustrated cry when Iker withdraws, his hips moving on their own volition, almost like he tries to buck in Iker’s mouth that is no longer there. Iker stopped at the right moment. Right for _him_ , of course. Sergio hates him.

He barely has time to calm down a little bit before he feels someone’s cock touch his lips. For sure it doesn’t belong to Iker, but that’s all he knows. He hesitates, but doesn’t protest. He’s more unsure than not willing to do it.

“It’s okay,” Iker whispers. “If you want to.”

Sergio nods meekly and parts his lips. He has to strain his neck to get more of the cock, until the person it belongs to takes mercy on him, sliding it in his mouth. It feels strangely foreign, but at the same time it makes it all even more exciting. Sergio marvels at Iker’s generosity. Iker’s always struck him as rather possessive.

When he feels Iker’s finger, slick with lube, at his entrance, slowly tracing around, he moans around the cock in his mouth, and its owner lets out a soft gasp as well. He squirms as much as the many hands on him allow him while Iker’s fingers stretch him open slowly and carefully. Sergio wants to tell him to fucking get on with it already, he wants to grab Iker’s cock and put it inside himself, but he can do neither for obvious reasons.

Whoever has their cock in Sergio’s mouth suddenly pulls it out, probably on Iker’s silent command. On another command Sergio can’t hear nor see, the men holding his legs pull them up to his chest. Iker pauses for a moment at Sergio’s entrance, only to tease him some more, and then pushes slowly in. 

Sergio lets out a shaky moan. He’s turned on so much that he can’t imagine surviving this to the end. Someone’s fingers are digging in his wrists and whoever is holding his shoulders is now massaging them, forcing him to relax. Iker starts moving inside him, slowly, too slowly. 

“Please,” Sergio begs, and he doesn’t know if he begs Iker, or everyone, or no one in particular. “Please…”

Iker’s next thrust comes unexpectedly hard and deep, and Sergio screams at the top of his lungs. Someone’s - again not Iker’s - hand clamps over his mouth and it sends him right over the edge. He comes violently all over himself, despite his cock not being touched for long minutes now, he comes harder than he’s ever come in his whole fucking life, and Iker fucks him through it, hard and fast, and when he’s done, Sergio realizes that he’s been actually crying for quite a while, simply from feeling too much at once, and it’s wonderful. 

The men around him let go of him, but they don’t leave yet. In his post-orgasmic haze, Sergio doesn’t quite pay attention to them, until he feels the hot spurts land on his stomach, mixing with his own. He lets out a shuddering breath and laughs a bit maniacally, his body soft and sore and boneless.

Iker waits for quite a while after the door clacks to take off Sergio’s blindfold. Sergio blinks into the light, eyes still stinging from tears, and then focuses his gaze on Iker. “I think I’ll live on this memory until I die,” he breathes out.

“Well, I wouldn’t mind creating another one,” Iker smiles. “Perhaps one of my fantasies this time?”

Tired as Sergio is, it stirs the curiosity in him. “What would that be?” 

Iker narrows his eyes. “Have I told you I quite fancy public sex?” he asks casually.

“Oh fuck,” Sergio rasps out brokenly before closing his eyes, Iker’s fingers running through his damp hair comfortingly. “Thank you,” he whispers then, feeling the urge to thank Iker before darkness overcomes him completely. 

“Anytime,” Iker says and Sergio hears the smile in his voice, although he can’t see it. “Anytime.”


End file.
